Warning: Contains themes of suicide

Five years ago Steve Liddiard’s mental health had deteriorated to the point where he was suicidal and felt “bricked up” inside his own mind.

When his GP advised him to take up walking he decided to take a camera – unbeknown to him, that was to be the start of his recovery.

“Photography saved me from myself,” said Steve, 36.

The father-of-two from Swansea began experiencing anxiety in his early 20s but it came to a head in his early 30s.

“[I was] balancing trying to be a good father, trying to progress career wise, worrying about money and bills and then I had some serious family issues which pushed me over the top and I felt as if there was no way to overcome everything,” said Steve, who lives in Swansea.

“You are your own worst enemy, doubting thoughts, feeling short of breath and the constant worrying.”

Steve became depressed, struggled to leave the house, became distant from family and friends and put on a front at work.

“Inside I was crumbling away,” he said.

At his lowest point he attempted to take his own life.

“It’s hard and embarrassing even now to admit that,” he said.

“I feel selfish that my actions could have had a major impact on others, children growing up without a dad, a partner to support them alone, but in that moment it’s almost like you are in thick fog and tunnel vision takes over, you feel it’s the only way to stop the thoughts.

“At that time, I thought this was the only way out.”

It was a turning point.

“Seeing the reaction from my family, I needed some help,” he said.

His mother and his partner of 14 years encouraged him to take action.

“Maybe if they didn’t I wouldn’t still be here today,” admitted Steve.

He went to see his GP, where he was given medication and advice on ways to cope.

“One of the therapies I was advised to try was going for walks alone, whether it be a beach, mountains, just an escape and clear my mind,” he said.

For his first walk he visited Whiteford Sands, a vast expanse of beach on the Gower Peninsula.

He walked out to the lighthouse.

“The lighthouse is worn, battered and bruised but still standing tall – I felt a connection to how I was feeling at that time,” said Steve.

“I took some photos on my camera phone, shared them online and had positive feedback.”

From then on, whenever he was out walking he would take photos.

He eventually bought a camera, equipment and drones.

“Photography I find is almost like meditation, you are focusing on your subject, adjusting for light, clarity, framing, you zone out completely, it was the perfect remedy for me,” said Steve.

Since his first shot of the old lighthouse, Steve has found a passion for photographing abandoned and dilapidated mansions, forgotten chapels and industrial buildings that have been left behind to modern technology.

“Anything that has a history behind it,” he said.

“I find it fascinating to see these places. I feel it’s important to document them before they crumble away.”

Steve’s photography remains a hobby – he works in the IT department at Swansea’s Morriston Hospital.

None-the-less, his work has received critical acclaim.

In 2021 he was named Historical Photographer of the Year for an image of his favourite Whiteford Lighthouse.

The following year he won the same award again, this time for his photograph of a disused Welsh woollen mill, with “the vibrant colours of the wool still sitting on the spindles, with nature growing all around”.

These days, Steve says he is “really good”.

“Things in life of course stress us all out but I have ways of coping now,” he said.

“I don’t let things bottle up.”

He said his partner Briony had noticed a huge difference in him.

Steve goes out to take photos early in the morning or late at night so he can spend as much time as possible with her and their two children, aged nine and 10.

“I would love in the future to see one of my photos hanging up in their own homes,” he said.

He urged anyone struggling with their mental health to speak to someone.

“Whether it’s friends and family first. No issue is too big, everyone struggles it’s just some struggle more than others. It’s not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength to speak out,” he said.

Steve said he was inspired by a quote by Bryce Evans, another photographer who says picking up a camera saved his life.

“If you find yourself stuck in the darkness, the first thing to do is find and start capturing the light.”

If you have been affected by issues raised in this story you can find details of where you can get support at BBC Action Line.

Nestled in an unassuming Glasgow Park lies a treasure trove of vibrant colours, intricate details, and tiny creatures waiting to be discovered.

It was during the confinement of the Covid lockdown that David Hamilton found himself captivated by this hidden world.

Now he runs a popular Instagram page “WeeMadBeasties” showcasing macro photography – extreme close-up photos – of all the creepy-crawlies found within Ruchill Park and across Scotland.

Before the restrictions the 43-year-old from Glasgow’s west end had been a landscape photographer, but the limitations of lockdown led him down a different path.

“I’d seen an article on someone converting their existing equipment to shoot macro stuff on the cheap,” he said.

“I said you know what, why don’t I give this a try – there’s a park across the road. Once I actually started seeing the sort of colours and the vibrancy of the insects, that was me hooked.”

Macro photography typically involves close-up photographs of small subjects, such as bugs and flowers.

David says the people who see his photos are always shocked by what he has found in Scotland.

And he has also impressed other macro photographers around the world with his pictures.

“I didn’t realise until I went away and met some of the guys from abroad that what I was producing was was of interest to them,” he said.

“There’s insects that we have here that they don’t. They’ve got spiders that are the size of your hand, whereas we’ve got tiny different species that they won’t see.

“I’ve had people reach out from various countries in the world saying they’d like to come over to Ruchill Park.”

Despite his success, David says Scotland can be a hard place for insect macro photography due to the limited number of insects and the country’s climate.

And the nation’s few insect photographers only have a short window to consistently capture good pictures.

“It didn’t used to bother me doing it here until I went to Malaysia,” he said.

“I stepped off the plane straight to the hotel, walked outside and looked through the first bush that I came across.

“I couldn’t even walk away there was that many things on it. I was like these guys have it easy.”

Despite the challenges, David says he probably has photographed and documented more than 1,000 different species from Scotland.

Although he admits they are not always the most co-operative photography subjects.

“It’s super difficult. You need to approach them practically at a snails pace.

“They’re a very difficult partner to try and work with – they’re not going to listen to you,” he said.

As the hobby requires you to get up close to the various different creepy-crawlies it does come with certain risks.

“I was over in France predominantly to take pictures of one tiny species called a Ruby-tailed wasp. They’re super small and I had found them and then got too close and got stung,” he said.

“I had to run away. I ended up just going to the pub after that because I couldn’t move my hand.”

David has now started to look further afield to find insects to photograph.

He feels he has mostly covered what Scotland has to offer and has plans to visit Australia next year.

But there is one bug in the highlands that has so far alluded him.

“A Bumblebee Hoverfly is very hard to find. It’s super rare and and it’s the only place in the whole of the UK that you get that one. I’d love to find it.”